Welcome to our blog! Come and join us on what we hope will be interesting and exciting adventures. Having enjoyed camping with our children decades earlier, we dreamed of revisiting favorite state and national parks as well as new destinations across the country, although this time it wouldn't involve setting up a tent or sleeping in our 1970 VW bus. In 2008, we purchased a travel trailer (more on that later).

Our Vacation Cottage On Wheels

Friday, March 26, 2010

It used to be that the news was presented by "talking heads;" good-looking people with nice smiles and the ability to read from a script or teleprompter. They might smile when presenting a humorous or touching story and look sad when the story warranted it, but one thing that they never did was to take sides. No matter what their personal feelings might be, they were expected to remain stoic and unopinionated.

One of the best at this was Walter Cronkite. He was many peoples' idea of the ideal father, grandfather, or kindly, wise and respected uncle. Or even a national leader. As one of the most famous and respected american newsmen of the 20th century, Walter was so highly regarded that many people wished that he would run for the Presidency. To his credit, he never did.

Every night and during special events, families would crowd around their radios and televisions, listening as Walter described some of the most important moments in this country's history, whether it was the Cuban Missile Crisis or man's first landing on the moon. Throughout the decades that Walter presented the news, he remained stately and neutral to what he was announcing. The only time that I know he showed much emotion was the day he reported the assasination of President John F. Kennedy. Walter became choked up, removed his glasses and through obviously teary eyes, looked directly into the camera and told us about the murder of who many believed was one of our most beloved Presidents.

After the news was presented, we, the viewing or listening public, were on our own in interpreting what we had been told. Whatever your social position, education, party affiliation, or religion, it was up to you to take what you had been told and fit it into your belief system. You were free to decide whether what you had been told was true or not and whether it was important to your life or could be safely ignored.

During the last few decades of the 20th century, someone (probably one of the mysterious "they" that we're always hearing about; as in, they said this or that, or they decided that we should all do this or that...) determined that we, the listening public, having become much more stupid than usual and therefore not trusted to make up our own minds about what we had just learned from the news media, needed our news massaged by them in order to make it easier to understand (or manipulate their audience to meet the needs of some special interest group).

Therefore, as a public service, the news media decided to do our thinking for us. Talking heads became conveyors not only of what had happened, but also whether it was a good or bad thing from the narrow perspective that they had decided to represent. News stations have become competing; if not outright, enemy camps. You can now get your news already digested and neatly packaged to fit your particular view of reality. Stations can now not only be classified as "Blue" or "Red," reflecting the Democratic or Republican Party's positions on various issues, but can be as liberal dark blue or conservative fiery red as you want them.

Today the news might even be one station reporting on another station's activities. "Spinning" the news to better match a station's assumed demographic viewership is the norm now. The talking heads have become the stars of the news industry, with hyperbole and sensationalism encouraged by their management and expected by their avid viewers. Stations and their star reporters are denigrated by the other stations' stars as being too liberal, or too conservative, or too much of whatever other weakness their writers have decided might be newsworthy or, as often seems to be the case, more controversial.

I, for one, like to consume news that is unadulterated. And, while I do have my own biases, I try not to let them rule my life. The first question I often ask myself after hearing a questionable news report is, "What does the other side have to say about this?" or even "How is the foreign press reporting this?" With the internet, none of us has any excuse for not checking our sources before we decide to condemn or praise a news story or the personality that it reports on.

Internet sites like "snopes.com" and the like analyze news reports and present the facts about what actually happened. Foreign news web sites also provide another view of things and often provide information not deemed "newsworthy" by American news agencies. It often amazes me to learn just how twisted some of our news is. Today's virtuous heroes are next week's jackasses and the next month's esteemed insiders who are asked to tell the viewing public (for a large pile of money) the "truth" about that month's controversial news story or personality. It can make your head spin.

The bottom line is that none of us has the need for someone else to do our thinking for us. Don't be lazy. Question everything. Trust no one...

To give yourself some more to think about and learn how fear is used to control us, try:

The Culture of Fear: Why Americans Are Afraid of the Wrong Things: Crime, Drugs, Minorities, Teen Moms, Killer Kids, Mutant Microbes, Plane Crashes, Road Rage, & So Much More, by Barry Glassner, available at Amazon.com. In the age of 9/11, the Iraq War, financial collapse, and Amber Alerts, our society is defined by fear. So it’s not surprising that three out of four Americans say they feel more fearful today then they did twenty years ago. But are we living in exceptionally dangerous times? In The Culture of Fear, sociologist Barry Glassner demonstrates that it is our perception of danger that has increased, not the actual level of risk. Glassner exposes the people and organizations that manipulate our perceptions and profit from our fears, including advocacy groups that raise money by exaggerating the prevalence of particular diseases and politicians who win elections by heightening concerns about crime, drug use, and terrorism. In this new edition of a classic book—more relevant now than when it was first published—Glassner exposes the price we pay for social panic. (taken from Editorial Reviews, Amazon.com)

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Rocky The Wonder Dog

Camping Stories...

What Bears Do In The Woods...

"Don't go into the woods tonight unless you bring along a gun, the teddy bears are having a picnic..."

It's not just a song! It's true!

A little story that I submitted to one of the Web's RV Forums. I hope that you find it amusing and informative — this is serious stuff people!

While relaxing outside of our new Fun Finder trailer last week, my DW of 43 years and I reminisced about camping with our children some 40 years ago...

We visited Washington D.C. on one trip and then drove up to Matthews Arm campground in the Shenandoah Natl. Park in Virginia. We haven't been back there for many years since the kids grew up and we retired in Florida, but we remember certain things about that trip like it happened yesterday. The thing to know about Matthews Arm CG is that it was THE place to go - to see bears.

On our first trip, we were a young, new family without much experience camping, two toddlers and just a VW bus to use as our RV. The first day we were in the park, we had a surprise at dinner time. While we were sitting at our picnic table with our young children, just starting to eat our dinner, I spotted a black bear sauntering down the campground road - and headed our way.

This being our first experience with a bear not in a cage of some sort, we were both thrilled - and scared. I shouted out a warning and told everyone to get into the van. The bear had turned off the road and was heading toward our site. Before I knew it, my wife had scooped up the kids and jumped into the van, slamming the door behind her. As I pounded on the door, looking over my shoulder at the advancing ursine invader, my wife just stared out the window at me in dazed amazement- as if she couldn't understand why I was still outside with the bear!

She shouted through the glass that I should get in there with her and the kids - "RIGHT THIS SECOND!" I managed to finally get her to understand that I would be VERY glad to, if only she would UNLOCK THE DOOR!

Well, I made it inside and, after climbing onto our picnic table and chewing on everything that looked like or smelled like food, the she-bear, as it turned out, ate our dinner and then climbed down and walked away.

Amazed at what happened, I waited until the all-clear was sounded and ran across the way to a neighbor's camp site. Yes, they said, the she-bears come around every evening at dinner time, and didn't we NOTICE that we were the only ones still having dinner when ALL the other campers around us had finished and quickly cleaned up and put everything that would attract a bear safely away? Well, nooo, we hadn't noticed and learned an important lesson about bear country: Ask about potential bear visitors when you arrive and be prepared to hustle when the time comes - and, oh yes, eat early and keep a spare car key in your pocket at all times! A mother's protective instincts toward her family don't always include her husband!

By the way, the other lesson we learned was that, although the she-bears came around at dinner time, the much bigger he-bears came around later. I've still got a collapsible water jug with deep tooth marks in it that got chewed on by a big fellow who came around in the pitch dark that same night. After being up most of the night, we left early the next morning...

Another "Bears In The Woods" Story... Submitted By Me On RV.Net

I agree about the danger in treating these animals as friendly "pets." I've seen foolhardy people ignore warnings about the danger of bears time and time again.

On another trip to the Shenandoah N.P., I watched in amazement as one jerk chased after a female black bear and her cub, trying to get ahead of them so that he could get that perfect "Kodak Moment" photo. All the while, a very annoyed ranger was chasing him, demanding that he cut off the chase.

Anyone who camps should be knowledgeable enough about the wildlife that they might encounter to know how dangerous a sow could be when accompanied by a cub. Maybe more people need to have a close encounter and come to know how lucky they are to not have been confronted by a bear.

On another trip, my family and I were tent camping in Shenandoah with a coworker and his family. It was chilly at night and we both had our catalytic heaters going in our closely pitched tents.

Late one night, after bedtime, we heard what we knew was probably a large male passing through the campground, knocking garbage cans out of their concrete-based highway divider-bent-into-a-ring protection. We could hear his progress as he went from can to can, coming ever closer to our tents. They might as well have been playing the "Jaws" da-dum-da-da-dum music for all the fear we felt.

We were huddled in the very center of our tents when the bear hit the garbage can not a dozen feet away; the one we had filled with the night's dinner scraps, including corn cobs soaked in butter. The bear went to work on our garbage. We could hear every grunt and breath from where we were.

When things went silent we thought that he had moved on. He hadn't. We heard the crunch of leaves under his heavy footsteps as he approached our tent and paused just outside.

We were praying that our toddler and young daughter wouldn't wake up and begin crying. The bear was snuffling, circling the tent. When he reached the middle of our encampment, right between the two tent fronts, pitched not a dozen feet apart, he stopped. Silence again. More silence.

My wife had a crushing grip on my bicep. Well, that was one helluva long night. The bear must've fallen asleep in between our toasty, warm tents, oozing nice heat out through their canvas into the night air. We sat up listening to him breathing, not 6 feet away. I'm not sure when he finally left, but one moment we could hear him out there and then he was gone.

And so were we the next morning. That was the last time we camped there.

We need no further education about avoiding bears. After leaving Virginia, we moved on down to the Great Smokey Mtns. N.P.

On arriving at the Cades Cove gate, a ranger told us to be careful - the night before, a black bear had torn his way into a tent holding two female campers AND the grapefruit that they had cut and set aside for their breakfast in bed.

The ranger informed us that the girls froze and were not harmed, but that they probably had to change their shorts after the bear left.

We were as nervous as hell from that point on. I think that was the point in time that I started dreaming about owning a nice, hard-sided RV...

A New Blog - Check It Out!

1990 Toyota Celica GT

The Restoration of My 1990 Toyota Celica GT

Well, she might not be a 1964 Corvette Stingray or a 1959 Porsche 1600 Super (both of which I owned once, early in my marriage and sold for PEANUTS!), but she's mine, she's paid for, and she deserved to live on.

So I decided to return her to the pristine (or better) condition that she was in when she rolled off the factory floor at Toyota Motors in Japan nearly twenty years ago. As you'll soon see, she's a beauty. She'll be refered to as "Yoda" from now on (Sorry, Karen, but "Yoda" makes more sense and a married man shouldn't give a name to his car that's the same as an old girlfriend's.)

I've created a linked blog all about my owning automobiles that are very valuable TODAY, but weren't so much 30 or 40 years ago, and were sold for PEANUTS (But who knew, right? I mean, I would put every penny I had on Microsoft way back when it was a startup selling for PEANUTS and now would have someone who worked for me writing this blog, but WHO KNEW?

If you want to see more outstanding writing, maybe pulitzer quality, check my other blog at: